


Stepping Into The Light

by Helis_von_Askir



Category: Highlander - All Media Types, Law & Order, Law & Order: SVU, The Unusuals
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 18:09:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19835740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helis_von_Askir/pseuds/Helis_von_Askir
Summary: Immortals come in all shape and sizes





	Stepping Into The Light

**Author's Note:**

> I came up with this when I was watching the last couple of seasons of Law & Order a couple of years ago.  
> I don't know either Law & Order, nor Highlander, and are not making any money off of this. It's just for fun.

**Stepping into the light**

With a painful gasp, Mike Cutter awoke in his dark apartment. Pain was surging through his body and he coughed up blood that had somehow gotten stuck in his throat. The smell alone was enough to make him nauseous. After a minute or two the pain stopped and Mike slowly got to his feet. His clothes were sticking to him in a very uncomfortable way and he wondered why. He made his way to the nearest light switch and turned the lights on. That’s when he saw it, his hands, his shirt, the floor of his living room were covered in blood. What the hell had happened? Mike tried to remember but his mind refused to come up with anything.

Suddenly the smell of blood became too much for him and he bolted for the bathroom. He made it there just in time. Having retched up his meager dinner of coffee and beagles, he sand down to the floor next to the toilet, burying his head in his hands, shaking uncontrollable. After maybe half an hour he took several deep breaths and forced himself to stand up. One look in the mirror showed him his own pale face covered in blood just like the rest of his body. Suddenly, his mind flashed back; there had been someone in his apartment when he had come home. Armed with a gun. He had been shot!

_Six hours earlier_

_Today had been one of those days you just want to put behind you. His case load had doubled in only a few hours, Judge Smith had suppressed the tape they needed to convict a murderer, a rapist he was prosecuting had fled jurisdiction and to top it all off, he now needed to convince that priest to testify in court about the murder he had witnessed. No, today was not a good day. All Mike wanted was a long shower and a drink. No way this day could get any worse._

_Obviously someone had heard him and decided to prove him wrong._

_He closed the door to his apartment and put his cell and briefcase on the small table next to the door and got rid of his jacket and tie. He went into his living room and was about to turn on the light when someone beat him to it. In the doorway to the kitchen stood a white man in a shabby coat and in his hand he held a gun. One that was aimed at him. Mike raised his hands slightly to show that he was unarmed._

_“You probably don’t remember me, Mr. Cutter…”_

_“Joseph Mercer,” Mike interrupted him. He remembered the man. His son James had murdered and raped a young woman after she had declined his advances, in that order no less. The case had been a slam dunk, with DNA proof and even a confession. The only one who had insisted on James’ innocence, was his father. He had claimed that his son was being framed by the police, that evidence had been fabricated and the confession forced. There was nothing that would ever convince the man otherwise._

_“So you do remember me. You should. You ruined my son’s life, you ruined my life!” Mercer accused him. “You sent him to prison and now he’s dead. They killed him in there. You probably arranged for that too, didn’t you? Just like before. You needed a scapegoat and James was just at the wrong place at the wrong time.” Mercer was raving now, stepping closer to Mike._

_“I’m sorry about your son, Mr. Mercer, but I had nothing to do with his death.” Mike tried to reason with the other man down._

_“Liar! You always had it out for him! My poor boy is dead because of you!” Mercer shouted and pulled the trigger. There was a sharp pain blossoming in Mike’s chest and suddenly he found himself lying on the floor. He brought his hand to up to his chest and tried to stem the bleeding, but there was so much of it and then he couldn’t breathe anymore because his lungs were filling up. He coughed the blood up, causing the pain in his chest to intensify and then there was blood in his throat and mouth. Dimly he was aware that Mercer was standing over him, starring down, a smile playing around his lips. Mike turned his head away. He didn’t want Mercer’s face to be the last thing he saw._

_He fought for every breath, but he knew he was losing the battle. He thought he heard footsteps and the opening and closing of a door, but he wasn’t sure. Everything became dark and cold and suddenly it wasn’t important to breath any more. At last weak cough and then nothing._

Mike felt nauseous again when he remembered what had happened. There was no way he could have survived a blood loss like that. Most of it was on his living room floor right at the moment. Taking a deep breath he unbuttoned his bloody shirt and took it off. There was a lot of blood, but no wound, no scar showing that there had been something wrong. How was that possible? Was he going crazy?

Suddenly, he couldn’t stand it anymore, he took off the rest his bloody clothes and stepped under shower. He needed to get rid of the smell. The water as scalding hot, but he didn’t care, he needed to feel clean again. After the shower, he changed into a t-shirt and jeans He felt better, but far from normal. He took his bloody clothes and took them to the kitchen, valiantly ignoring the huge blood stain on his living room floor. Whatever had happened to him, he needed to get rid of the clothes. Explaining them would be more than a bit awkward. He dropped them into the sink and then grabbed some towels and cleaned up the floor, thank God he didn’t have a carpet there. That done, he added the towels to his clothes, dosed the entire pile with a generous amount of scotch and lit it up.

Then he poured himself a glass, a big one. He really needed it. While he watched the fire consume the clothes and towels he contemplated what to do now. He couldn’t report it, that much was obvious, but he needed to find a way to deal with Mercer. He kept a tight hold of the glass, so tight that it suddenly broke in his hand. With a curse, he put the remains down on the counter. One shard had itself buried into the palm of his hand. He pulled it out with a wince and watched the blood flow down his hand. It was a miracle that he still had any left. And then the wound healed before his eyes, little lighting flashing over it. And then it was gone without leaving a trace. So he wasn’t going insane. It had really happened. Something was obviously wrong with him. He might just prefer to go insane.

Before he could contemplate that cheerful thought any longer, his cell rang. It was still on the table where he had up it when he had come home. The display showed that it was Lupo calling. Never a good sign this time of the night.

“Cutter,” he said as he picked up.

 _“Mr. Cutter, are you alright? Where are you?”_ Lupo sounded agitated and also relieved to hear his voice.

“I’m fine, Detective. I’m in my apartment.”

 _“We just received information that a Joseph Mercer might be coming after you.”_ Lupo explained the reason for his call.

“I can be in the office in half an hour.” Mike replied quickly. Getting out of here would be good. Focusing on something else would be better.

Lupo didn’t like that idea one bit.” No, too dangerous. Bernard and me are coming to get you.”

“If you insist.” For a moment Mike was tempted to tell Lupo that Mercer had been here, but only for a moment, then reason took over again and he kept silent. He would deal with Mercer should the need arise, how he didn’t know, but he would think of something.

“You sure you’re alright?” Lupo said when he escorted Mike down to the car. “You look a bit pale.”

“It’s in the middle of the night, Detective, and I wasn’t expecting a late night call, so excuse me for not looking my best.” Mike replied testily. He knew none of this was Lupo’s fault, but he needed to let off some steam and the man was handy.

“Touchy,” Lupo murmured. “Connie and McCoy are being taken to the precinct as we speak. McCoy’s pissed, let me tell you.” He tried to make small talk.

“There’s a shocker.” Was all Mike said to that as he got into the unmarked police car where Bernard was already waiting. The drive didn’t take long. There was little to no traffic at this time of the night, even in New York.

Once at the precinct, the detectives ushered him into a conference room where the others were already waiting. By now he had obviously recovered sufficiently because no one commented on him being pale. Mike was glad for it, he wasn’t sure if he could have come up with a reasonable explanation in his current state of mind. He was barely holding it together as it was.

“Sorry about the late get-together.” Lieutenant Van Buren greeted them all. “But a couple of hours ago, Mrs. Mercer brought us these photos.” She showed them pictures of them all, Lupo, Bernard, Connie, even Jack, but most were from Mike, in front of the court house, One Hogan Place, even some in front of his apartment building. “She was worried that her husband might do something rash. We’ve an APB out on his car and should he used his credit cards, we’ll know about it. Unfortunately, he doesn’t have his cell with him, so we can’t track him that way. In the meantime, we booked you a few rooms in a lovely hotel were you will stay until we can catch him.”

“And what if he is in the wind?” Connie asked. “No offence, but I’m not staying in a hotel indefinitely.”

“I doubt that will be necessary,” Lupo said. “I remember Mercer well enough, he didn’t strike me as the most resourceful person ever. He’s bound to make a mistake soon.”

An hour later, they got a hit on Mercer’s credit card. He had paid with it for a hotel room in midtown. Within minutes, the cops were on their way. On arrival they saw that a couple of patrol cars were already there, waiting for them and making sure Mercer didn’t get away.

“Concierge says Mercer checked in to hours ago and hasn’t come out since.” One of the officers told them.

“Alright, we take it from here, thanks.” Lupo said and he and Bernard headed in and up to the fourth floor. Mercer’s room was the last on the floor. They had a master key card from the concierge, just in case Mercer decided to play it the hard way.

“Joseph Mercer, NYPD, open up!” Bernard shouted through the closed door. There was no reply, in fact there was no sound at all coming from inside the room. “Think he made a run for it?” he asked his partner.

“Let’s find out.” Lupo inserted the car in the lock and then pushed the door open. They both covered the room in front of them with their guns. They were greeted by a blood-splattered wall and Joseph Mercer lying in a pool of his own blood on the king-size bed, gun still in his lifeless hand.

“Well, heel.” Bernard muttered as they come closer. He secured Mercer’s gun and Lupo called it in on his radio. “Do you see a note or something?”

They were all relieved when they were told they could go home again. Mike most of all. Now he didn’t have to think about what had happened to him. Maybe pretend it never had happened. Yeah, that was likely.

“You know what I have trouble with?” Lupo asked as they walked out of the precinct.

“What’s that, Detective?” Mike asked, not really interested buy trying to make up for his rude behavior earlier.

“He blew his brains out with one bullet, but there were two missing from the magazine. So, where is the second one?” he asked.

Mike grew very still. Where was the second bullet indeed? He hadn’t seen one when he had cleaned up his apartment, but then he hadn’t been looking either. “Maybe that was all the ammunition he had, or he did a practice shot somewhere else.” He suggested to Lupo, hoping his voice sounded as calm as it should. Because inside he was panicking. Where could that damned bullet be?

The moment Mike came home, he started looking. He was pretty certain that he had coughed the damn thing up, but wasn’t sure. The whole night had been a nightmare and he had been in no shape to pay attention to the details. He found it quickly. It had fallen under the couch, a little piece of deformed metal.

Weighting it in his hand, Mike pondered what to do with it. Throw it into the waste? Keep it? Throw it into the Hudson? That was probably the smartest thing to do. Then he could forget about it. Like that was going to work, he thought sourly. He couldn’t ignore it, no matter how tempting an idea that was. He would get rid of the bullet first and then try his hand in some internet research. It couldn’t be that hard, could it? Connie did it all the time. With that plan set, he quickly grabbed his coat again. It was a bit of a walk to the Hudson form his apartment and it was getting cold.

It was a few days later and Mike still didn’t know what to make of what had happened when he made his way to St. Mary of Mercy church. It was an old, small church, but well-cared for. Normally, it would have been Connie’s job to try to convince Father Jacob Turner to testify on the People’s behalf in one of their cases, but she was down with the flu, like half the office, and so here he was.

When he sat foot on the church ground he felt something. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something was different. Not in a bad way, but something that he just felt deep in his bones.

 _It’s just nerves_ , he thought. _I’m still not a hundred percent, that’s all_.

Shaking off the strange feeling, he went up the steps to the front door. He had just stepped through it when there were suddenly icy fingers crawling up his spine, gathering in the back of his head. It hurt too, but just for a second and then the feeling was gone just as quickly as it had come.

Mike looked around confused. He had no idea what had just happened, he had never experienced anything like that before. He then heard footsteps coming slowly closer. He turned to see Father Jacob Turner making his way towards him. The priest stepped a few feet in front of him.

“Mr. Cutter, I’m so sorry,” Father Jacob said in a solemn voice.

“For what?” Mike asked confused.

“Your recent death, of course.” Father Jacob said in a tone as if it was the most normal topic of conversation.

Mike took a startled and suspicious step back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He told the young priest, hoping that he sounded more convincing than he felt.

Father Jacob cocked his head and regarded him for a long moment. “Yes, you do.” He replied. “But you don’t understand it. This must be all very confusing for you. Let’s go to my office, there is much I must explain to you.”

Mike listened to Father Jacob’s explanation. It was too weird to even consider it to be true. “Immortal?” he asked. “I’m sorry, but I find that hard to believe.”

Instead of answering the priest took out a small knife and cut into his hand. Mike saw it heal, just like his own palm had healed only a few days ago.

“Oh, God,” Mike breathed. “I thought I was going insane. I think I would prefer going insane.”

“When did it happen?” Turner asked sympathetically.

“Five days ago? You?” Mike replied.

“One hundred forty-seven years. I was a ran-away slave from Texas. I fought for the Union for two years before a bullet caught me. Waking up in a field of dead people was…disturbing, but one of the doctors on our side was immortal too. He took me in and thought me everything I needed o know to survive. And now I’m going to teach you.” Jacob explained.

“And what is it I do have to lean?” Mike wanted to know. He was still trying to come to terms with everything. Though it was nice to know that he wasn’t alone in this.

Jacob reached into the coat hanging on the wall next to his chair and pulled out a sword and let it fall on the table. “How to use this, for one.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Mike stared at the weapon and then at the priest.

“Afraid not. I told you, we can only die permanently when we lose our head. And there are still enough of our kind out there playing the Game. This is for your protection.” Jacob lifted the blade and offered it to Mike.

Taking it hesitantly, Mike felt the weight of the sword. It was a lot heavier than he thought it would be. “Why don’t you just take my head now, and save yourself the trouble of teaching me.”

“Well, first of all, we’re on Holy Ground, and yes, that are capital letters, you felt it, I’m sure, when you entered. We don’t find on Holy Ground, not among ourselves, not with mortals. And second, you’re new to all of this, you deserve a chance, just like everyone else, not teaching you would be considered rude and nearly a crime among our kind. I’m the first you ran into, so this duty falls to me. You can try to find another teacher, of course, you have that choice, but my door will always be open to you.” Jacob took the sword back and put it into the coat again.

“So there are rules.” Mike stated. That was good. He liked rules.

Jacob nodded. “Some, not many, though, but those we have we do well to follow.”

“Yeah, I figured.” Mike sighed. “Can we shelf that for the moment? My head feels like it’s about to explode. There is a reason I came here. The Staton case.”

Jacob smiled. “I think you understand now why I’m so reluctant to testify. Jacob Turner is not my real name and I prefer to not commit perjury if I can help it. But if you truly need my statement to convict that man then I’ll take the stand.”

“Thank you, Father Jacob.” Mike said sincerely and for more than just his help with the case.

The swords clashed together and separated again. Mike and Jacob circled each other before they attacked again. It had been three months since Mike’s first death now and he was finally getting the hang of it, fighting with a sword was hard and thought he had always tried to stay in shape, he was nowhere near fit enough to defeat Jacob yet. But at least now he could hold his own for more than ten seconds.

And mike wasn’t the only one noticing his improved physical condition and appearance. Carlos had commented on it only yesterday, saying that it was a shame that Mike was wasting such a hot body on work and work alone. Of course he hadn’t said that to Mike’s face, he had gossiped with the other ADA’s during a coffee break and Connie had brought the word back to Mike with a huge grin nearly splitting her face.

Mike just shook his head and laughed it off. He didn’t mind Carlos’ interest, that wasn’t new, but he would have preferred it if no one had noticed the changes.

Suddenly they felt the presence of another Immortal. They disengaged and watched the door until it opened a moment later and a man stepped through.

Jacob smiled at the newcomer and motioned for Mike that it was okay, he was a friend. “Jason, haven’t seen you in a while. What brings you here?”

“I heard you have a new student, and I must say I’m surprised that it’s the EADA of Manhattan.” Jason replied and offered Mike his hand. “Detective Jason Walsh, 2nd precinct.”

Mike shook his hand. “We’re really everywhere, aren’t we?”

“Something like that.” Jason agreed. “Jacob isn’t torturing too badly, is he?”

“No,” Mike assured him while Jacob merely rolled his eyes.

“Just copying your teachings, Jason,” Jacob told him. “The good detective was my teacher back in the day.” He explained to Mike. “He still thinks that he has to check up on me now and then. Because compared to him we’re all little children.”

Jason chuckled. “He’s exaggerating. I’m just trying to be a good friend. Now, why don’t you show me what you have learned so far, Mr. Cutter?” He shrugged out of his jacket and took his gladius-style sword out. Jacob nodded to Mike and stepped back. Mike readied himself and only hoped that he wouldn’t embarrass himself too badly.

Two years later

“Mike, you’ve got to see this.” Connie nearly stormed into the office and turned the TV on.

“Why? What’s the problem, Connie?” Mike asked. He had been working on the closing for the Nearson case and he needed to get is just right.

“This just made CNN, it’s from Paris.” Connie said in lieu of an explanation and indicated the flat screen.

It showed rather grainy security footage of what Mike thought was a supermarket. It was a normal scene until a young man entered the frame and started shooting. The young woman at the register dove for cover while the man aimed his gun at a couple of kids who seemed frozen in place by fear and terror. Another, dark-haired man jumped in front of them and took the bullets for them. While he crumbled to the floor the shooter ran and after a few seconds the children and the employee followed suit.

“Well, that’s bad, but…” Mike started.

“Wait, it isn’t over yet.” Connie interrupted him, just as the man that had been shot stood up again and after a quick look around ran out too.

Mike felt like he had been dumped into ice water. This couldn’t be happening. Who was that idiot that had just outed them? “So, that is some prank, a pretty tasteless one.” Mike said and if that Immortal in Paris had half a brain he would say that too should the police find him.

“That’s the thing, Mike, the Parisian police say the blood’s real, as are the bullets they found, that guy really got up after being shot several times.” Connie told him excitedly.

“And what does he say?” Mike indicted the enlarged still photo of the man on the screen.

“They haven’t found him yet. They’re still trying to identify him.” Connie said.

Mike shook his head. “I still think it’s a fake.”

“Did you see it?” Mike asked when he entered Jacob’s church. The immortal priest and Walsh were already there, nursing a drink in his little office.

“Yeah, hard not to, it’s playing everywhere.” Jacob replied and poured Mike a drink. “This could be it.”

“Do you know who he is?” Mike wanted to know.

“His name is Duncan MacLeod. He’s a bit over four hundred years old.” Jason spoke up. “I met him in Verdun, 1916. He has a reputation of trying to solve the world’s problems, whether the world wants it or not. I’m not really surprised that it’s him that blows our little secret out into the open.”

“What will he do now?” Jacob asked. Mike had never seen him so worried.

“If he has any sense, he’ll disappear for a century or two.” Jason muttered.

“And if not?” Mike wanted to know.

“Then I hope the Old Man hits him over the head and drags him to the farthest reaches of this planet.” Jason sighed. “But we should prepare for the worst. You all have ways to disappear, right?”

Jacob nodded and after a moment Mike followed. It had been one of the first things Jacob had taught him how to do. From fake papers and emergency stashes, to changing his appearances enough to pass muster, to safe houses to lay low in.

He didn’t like to think about it, but it would have become necessary to leave in a few years anyway, before it became obvious that he was no longer aging.

“Good, keep your eyes open. Maybe it will blow over, but if not…” Jason trailed off. He looked tired and not convinced that it would blow over or just go away. This was it.

It didn’t go away. Not in this time and day. The video showed up on YouTube and after that it didn’t take long for MacLeod to be officially identified. At least they hadn’t found him yet. True to Walsh’s prediction, MacLeod had disappeared from the face of the Earth. And if that had been all it would have been forgotten soon enough, but then pictures and articles from the last hundred years sporting him started to show up. After that there was no way the police and government agencies all over the world would let it go. And quickly rumors started to circulate that where there was one, there were many and the hunt was on.

Mike had thought about it hard and long, but in the end, it was the only thing he could do. The only responsible thing he could do. The fact that Immortals existed was no longer being disputed, two Immortals in Canada had been discovered only last week. Now the discussion was about what to do about them. The first reactions were not positive. No one was really surprised by that and now it was time to leave. Mike didn’t want to dray anyone else down in this mess that was now facing his kind with him.

After a knock on Jack’s door, he entered and wordlessly put a letter on the older man’s desk.

“What’s this?” Jack asked confused after he had read it.

“My letter of resignation.” Mike replied quietly. “I’m leaving at the end of the week. Connie can take over until you find a replacement. Or give her the job, she can easily do it.”

“I can read, Mike.” Jack sighed. “We’ve been through this before.”

Mike shook his head. “I’m not taking it back, Jack, I can’t.”

Jack leaned back in his chair and sighed again. “Listen, I don’t know what’s going on, but whatever it is…”

“I’m immortal, Jack.” Mike interrupted. He hadn’t planned on telling him quite like that, but at least now it was out.

“Come again?” Jack asked after a long moment.

“I’m immortal,” Mike repeated. “I have been for a bit over two years.”

Jack rubbed his hands over his face. “I was hoping that was just some crazy hype in the media that turned out to be as true as Elvis sightings. Are you sure, Mike? Maybe you’re mistaken.”

Mike shook his head and took out a pocketknife and cut his palm and let Jack see the wound heal. “Believe me now? Mercer was waiting in my apartment and shot me.”

“Well, hell. I’m glad you told me, but that is no reason to quit.” Jack said. “Who else knows?”

“Only you and some others of my kind. But Jack, you can’t have an Immortal working for you. They’ll crucify you when the press finds out. And me right next to you.” Mike pointed out.

“I decide who works for me, Mike, not the press!” Jack was angry, not so much at Mike, but at the situation and the fact that Mike was right.

“Until the next election, Jack. This is for the best, for all of us. And we need to find out what to do now as a people anyway, better not to create any situations where I have to divide my loyalty.” Mike explained.

“Yeah, you’re probably right, but I still don’t like this.” Jack stood up and went to his couch. “A last drink? For old times’ sake?” Jack offered.

“Of course,” Mike gladly accepted the glass. Jack had taken the whole thing a lot better than Mike had feared he would.

“Are you going to tell Connie?” Jack wanted to know after a moment of silence.

Mike shook his head. “No, you can tell her if you want, but I can’t. I want her to remember me as a normal guy, not a freak.”

“She won’t think that, Mike. This is Connie we’re talking about. I thought you had a higher opinion of her.” Jack said somewhat surprised.

“I have, but that way no one can blame anything on her, or you, and you know as well as I do that the press will try to besmirch her, just because she’s an easier target than you or me.” Mike tried to explain.

“I can understand you point, but I doubt Connie will see it that way. She doesn’t need or want us protecting her.” Jack reminded him.

Mike sighed. “Yeah, I know, but it’s still the best thing to do.”

“I feel like a conspirator.” Mike muttered under his breath.

Jacob smiled and led the way to the front door of the villa near Boston. They had been invited to a meeting to talk strategy with some other Immortals about what to do, especially here in the United States. And for Immortal standards, it was a big meeting. Well, Jacob had been invited and he had decided to bring Mike along.

“I’m sure to some it is. Yesterday, I read in a newspaper that we are planning to take over the world.” Jacob told him with a grim smile.

“Are we not?” Mike asked faking surprise.

Jacob shook his head chuckling. “You’re spending too much time with Jason, that’s for sure.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” The Immortal in question said when he opened the door to let them in. The Buzz had already told them that they weren’t the first to arrive.

“Don’t get me started.” Jacob grumbled. “Who else is here?”

Jason led them down a hallway into a generous living room. “The usual suspects; Adam, Helen, Therese, Grace, Laura, Ian, Tony, Anna and Francesca.” He listed the other that would attend the meeting. “Killian and Marique should arrive in the next half hour or so.”

The other Immortal stood together in tow’s and three’s talking, catching up, or discussing other things. Jason introduced Mike to the others and Mike had to admit that he was impressed and a bit intimidated. He knew that he was the youngest here by far, that the others were centuries, some even thousands of years older than him. Their presence filled the room and it was not the Buzz. The others welcomed him and didn’t treat him like the little child he felt he was.

When the last two finally arrived, they sat down and got down to business.

“We can move and live relatively well in Europe.” Therese started. “At least in the European Union, though despite the courts there ruling in our favor, I would stay out of Eastern Europe. They don’t even respect their own citizens’ human rights, much less ours. Switzerland and most of the other European countries not members of the EU have followed suit. Russia, China, Iran and North Korea declared us persona non grata and are actively hunting us. Thankfully, we got all of us out. The rest of the world is waiting to see what he US will do in regards to us.” She explained the overall situation.

“The government agencies, FBI, NSA, CIA, and so on are all itching to get their hands on us, but are holding still because they have no go ahead from the top brass as of yet.” Tony reported. “It’s only a matter of time before the first starts to act anyway, with or without permission.”

“We’re not going to let it go that far, are we?” Jacob asked.

“Of course not.” Helen said. “We’re fighting for our rights before the Supreme Court, and for that we need an experienced lawyer, who’s also one of us.” She looked directly at Mike with a smile that made him want to hide.

“You want me to be what?” Mike asked surprised. “There have to be others who are older and more experienced than me.”

“Actually, your youth is going to work in your favor in this. They can pretend you’re still one of them.” Therese explained. “You’re the best choice for a legal adviser. Thing about it, Michael. You know the system, the players and you know us. The future will be hard for us, all of us, we have to stick together. Not matter how novel an idea that is.”

“They’re going to pull my license when they find out.” Mike pointed out.

“Then you’ll get it back.” Laura spoke up. “They have no grounds for taking it away, all they have is fear.”

“Which will be a strong motivator.” Mike sighed. “But I’ll do it anyway, just as a matter of principle. But don’t expect me to deal with the whole of the US.”

Therese smiled. “No, of course no, that would be a bit much. You’ll head a team her on the East Coast, there will be another one at the West Coast and one somewhere in the middle. We’re putting out the word to find others who want to help, and you can hire others, mortals, if you want, but they’ll have to pass a thorough vetting.” She explained.

Mike nodded. “Sounds pretty…challenging. I need to figure out some details, but that shouldn’t be a real problem.”

“Excellent, thank you, Michael.” Therese turned to the others. “The next point is safe houses and transportation.”

Mike listened intently, as the others discussed locations and ingress and egress of Immortals and their mortal families and friends. Just because the Supreme Court said Immortals had the same rights as everyone else, didn’t mean that the general public was going to go along with it.

Other points they discussed were how to organize themselves, or better, create an Immortal government that would represent their community. The Immortals gathered here were well connected to others of their kind, they knew that most were willing to go along with it and they again were advertising and promoting the building of a government. There was still work to be done, but Mike was impressed with what they had already accomplished in just a few weeks.

“So, what do you think?” Jacob asked when he and Mike were driving back home some hours later.

“Impressive.” Mike replied. It was the only fitting word that he could think off. “They discuss the most complex subjects and not only come up with workable solutions but also apply them and make things work right away. The politicians in the rest of the world talk and talk, but don’t get anything done, or if they do something it’s halfhearted and doesn’t work the way it’s supposed to. Sorry, I’m rambling.”

Jacob laughed. “It’s okay, Mike. You’re right, but you have to consider, we don’t have lobbies, not parties or voters to make happy, at least not yet. There will be elections at some point, though. And our friends are very old, they had centuries and millennia to hone their skills in politics. And often wield a lot of political and military power.” Jacob sighed. “Hopefully, they learned enough.”

As Mike had predicted, the second the bar association found out he was immortal, they pulled his license. Their reasoning was that they had no way to knowing if anything Mike had submitted was genuine or fake, if he was even Michael Cutter. Which was ridiculous, he had his mother and friends from his childhood to vouch for the fact that he was the age he said he was.

He needed to get to court and get his license back and he already knew whom to go to for representation.

“Let me get this right, Mr. Cutter. You want me to get your license back?” Paul Robinette asked more than a bit surprised.

“Are you not up to the challenge, Mr. Robinette?” Grace Winters asked back. She had offered Mike to help him anyway she could in this matter. She had a relatively new law degree and wanted it acknowledged too, but for that they needed a precedent and Mike’s situation was perfect for it.

As a sign of trust, Grace had told him her true name, Iphigenia of Argos, born in Greece around three thousand years ago, though she didn’t look older than nineteen, maybe.

Mike was still very new to this, but he understood how much trust Iphigenia was showing him. The older Immortals were, the more dangerous their real names were if the wrong people learned them.

“Oh, I’m game, but I have to warn you, Mr. Cutter, Ms. Winters. This is going to get ugly once the press gets wind of this and they will get wind o it.” Robinette replied.

“Don’t worry about us, Mr. Robinette. We can take the heat.” Mike assured him.

Paul nodded. “Then I’m going to need some information from you. Your history and some information on immortals in general.”

Paul Robinette did brilliant work. Presenting everything from Mike’s adoption papers, birth certificate (his birthday was the day he had been found near the church his parents used to attend back then), to year-book photos and some old home videos. Mike didn’t like to present his entire mortal life in front of everyone, especially in front of the press, but it served its purpose. The bar association looked more and more like a bunch of morons who had acted ignoring all the rules there were because of public pressure.

“The bar association had no legal standing to revoke Mr. Cutter’s license to practice law. He obtained it while he was still mortal. He didn’t lie to anyone and it’s no crime to be adopted.” Paul Robinette delivered his closing. “What’s next? The bar pulls my license because I’m black, or someone else’s because he or she is gay? There is no legal reason for revoking the license and I hope that you will make sure, Your Honors, that the bar association is reminded of its own rules and that they’re duty-bound to follow them. And becoming immortal was not something Mr. Cutter had any control over.”

The court deliberated for three days. Mike didn’t know if he should take that as a good sign or not. Robinette put on an optimistic front, but Mike could tell that he was nervous and tense too. This case could ruin his reputation. The press had already started to target him too. Only Grace seemed completely calm, but that could just be her experience in hiding her true feelings, perfected over centuries.

“All rise!” the court guard called when the judges entered the court room and took their seats. The rest of the room followed suit.

The chairman let his gaze travel over the room before starting. “The court had found that the Bar Association has no legal standing to revoke Michael Cutter’s license to practice law in the state of New York. It is therefore reinstated, effective immediately. As for other Immortals, who wish to have their degrees obtained under aliases recognized, it is the view of this court that they need to reapply under their real names. The court also strongly suggests that the government adapts the laws for our long-lived citizens and green card holders.”

With that the judges left the room. The first to follow wee the reporters who had a new juicy story.

Mike turned to Robinette. “Thank you, Paul, that was good work.”

They shook hands. “It’s been my pleasure, Mike. I always like a good challenge. Ms. Winters, I assume you have some studying to do now.” He told Iphigenia.

She shrugged. “I passed the test once, I’ll do it again. But I guess I have to sit down with the people in charge to convince them to take this ruling seriously, and not to appeal.”

“That will take some convincing indeed.” Paul smiled and handed her his business card. “But you know where to find me.”

“That I do. Thank you, Mr. Robinette.” Iphigenia agreed smiling.

While Paul and Mike left through the front door to face the media comping outside, Iphigenia left through a side door. She never had liked those bloodhounds overly much, and only a fraction of them were even trying to report neutrally on Immortals.

This was one victory in a war that would continue for a long time if it would ever end. Iphigenia wasn’t her holding her breath on mortals coming around to letting them live their lives in peace. But for tonight there was some celebration to be held. A win was a win, after all.

Two years later

Detective Olivia Benson and her partner Detective Nick Amaro entered the third floor of the hospital and headed straight for the nurse station.

“Excuse me, Det. Benson and Amaro, SVU, you called us for a rape case.” Olivia said to the older nurse manning the computer.

“Yes, we did. Nice of you to show up after four hours.” Came the testy reply.

“Have you looked outside recently, ma’am?” Amaro asked. “There’s a blizzard out there. Traffic’s locked. We’re lucky to have made it here without freezing off a leg.”

The nurse didn’t look mollified by that explanation very much, but she didn’t look murderous at them anymore. “Angela O’Donnell, room 324, your partner may want to stay back, she freaked out when the doctor entered the room, they had to call for a female colleague to do the exam.” She said to Olivia, mostly ignoring Amaro.

“Thank you, Nurse Walters.” Olivia thanked her and they both headed to room 324.

“Okay, what did I do to piss her off?” Nick asked genuinely confused.

“Nothing, probably just one of these days.” Olivia shrugged.

“Lucky me.” Amara muttered.

Olivia gently knocked at the door before entering the room. Angela O’Donnell was the only occupant. She was lying in the bed, staring at the opposite wall. Her face was covered in bruises, one eye swollen shut, her broken arm in a cast. The attacker had focused on the right side of her body.

“Ms. O’Donnell?” Olivia asked gently. Angela O’Donnell blinked a couple of times before focusing at her. “I’m Detective Olivia Benson and this is my partner Detective Nick Amaro.” Amaro had the sense to stop inside the door and stay at the wall, as far away from the traumatized woman as possible while still inside the room.” We’d like to ask you a few questions, if that’s okay.”

Angela O’Donnell stared at Amaro for a second before giving a jerky nod.

“Okay,” Olivia sat down in the chair standing on the left side of the bed, so Angela could see her, and so she was between Angela and Nick. “What can you tell us about your attacker? Was he white, black, Latino, tall, small, heavy, light?” Olivia asked.

“It was an Immortal!” Angela blurted out. “He was trying to kill me!”

“Is that all she could give you?” Captain Cragen asked. “That’s not an awful lot. A description would be more useful.”

“She says he blindfolded her from behind, she never saw him.” Amaro explained.

“Then how does she know that the guy is immortal? They have been on their best behavior since they were outed.” Fin spoke up.

“That we know off.” Munch cut it. “We only know of a handful of them and they’re not telling how many of them there are.”

“All good points, and you’ll find answers to them, boys and girls.” Craigan ended the discussion before it could get out of hand. “Do we have a DNA sample of the pert?” he wanted to know.

“We do,” she nodded. “Sperm sample is already in the lab. They’ll put a rush on it for us.”

“All nice and good, but to get something to compare it to would be nice too. How do we find an Immortal willing to talk to us and give us a DNA sample?” Amaro asked.

“Actually, we do know someone who might help us with that.” Cragen said much to the surprise of the two newest members of the SVU.

“What? Who?” Rollins wanted to know.

“Mike Cutter. He was the EADA with a couple of years back, before your time. Went through the media when he fought in court to get his license back. I’m surprised you haven’t heard about it.” Cragen explained.

“I had other worries at that time.” Was all Rollins said. “We’re going to pay this Cutter a visit, right? He’s a suspect too.”

“First call McCoy, as far as I know he still talks to Cutter from time to time. We have to be careful here. Don’t forget it, people.” Cragen said.

It was early the next morning when Olivia and Nick parked their car in front of Cutter’s house. He sure had done well for himself in the last couple of years.

“How good do you know Cutter?” Nick asked when they got out of the car.

“Talked to him on a few cases, but that’s all. Ambitious, but not one to cross the line.” Olivia replied. “We’ll see how much he’s changed.”

Not much in a physical sense. He was in his late thirties and would remain like this for as long as he kept his head. He seemed to be in better shape than Benson remembered but that was not surprising considering he was swinging a heavy sword on a regular basis.

“Can I offer you coffee or something?” Cutter asked as he led them into the kitchen. His hair was damp, so Benson assumed he had just gotten up and taken a shower.

“No, thank you.” Olivia replied as Amaro shook his head.

“This is Jen.” Cutter introduced a very young looking, dark-haired woman who was in the kitchen making the coffee. “Det. Benson and Amaro.”

Jen nodded in greeting and leaned against the counter watching them expectantly. Olivia really hoped she was an Immortal because she didn’t look all that legal.

“Jack said you have a case pointing in our direction, but he didn’t go into any specifics.” Mike prompted.

Olivia nodded. “We have a rape victim, who claims her attacker is immortal. And we were hoping you could help us out.”

Mike nodded slowly. “That depends a lot on how you want to handle this, Detective. What description did she give you of the attacker.”

Amaro winced. “That’s the problem, he attacked her from behind and blindfolded her. She never saw him.”

“Then we have a problem, Detective Amaro.” Cutter pointed out. “If she never saw him, how does she know he’s actually immortal?”

“He told her, repeatedly. And he didn’t use a condom, so we have a DNA sample.” Olivia replied.

Cutter shared a quick look with Jen. “To make one thing clear, Detective. I will not help you get a DNA sample of every male Immortal in New York just because your victims says her attacker was immortal. Not without at least a general description to narrow it down.”

“That would be like demanding a DAN sample from every Muslim man in New York because he told his victim that’s his religion.” Jen spoke up. “But more importantly, did you find sperm cells in your DNA sample?”

“Yes, of course.” Olivia confirmed somewhat confused. “Normal count according to Dr. Warner. Why?”

“Well, than it wasn’t on of us.” Jen told them.

Amaro looked as confused as Olivia felt. “What do you mean?”

“We’re immortal, Detective.” Jen said with a cold smile. “We’re all barren.”

“You are? Are you sure?” Amaro wanted to know.

“Yes, we are.” Jen didn’t sound impressed by Nick doubting her. “Female Immortals have no egg-cells, male Immortals are…how shall I put it? Shooting blanks. If you found sperm-cells, then it’s not one of us.”

“Then where do new Immortals come from?” Olivia wanted to know.

Jen shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Okay, let’s get back to the matter at hand.” Mike spoke up. “The perp obviously wanted to point you in our direction for a reason.”

“Or she did.” Jen added and continued before the cops could say anything. “Maybe she orchestrate the whole thing because she has something against us. Just a theory.”

But Olivia shook her head. “She’s in pretty bad shape, I don’t think she has had done that to her voluntary, just to make you guys look bad. Your theory is more likely, Mr. Cutter.”

Jen smiled icy at them. “Don’t underestimate what women are willing to do, or to endure, to get what they want. But you’re the cops, you have to do the investigating.”

“Neither of your theories gives us much to go on.” Nick sighed. “And no offence, but we only have your word that you’re barren, we’ll need more than that.”

“And I need more than _an Immortal did it_ , Detective.” Mike told him. “You want my help, you need to give me something I can work with. Immortals may work for governments and law enforcement from time to time but they don’t trust either one, and for good reason. We fought for our rights hard and we won’t give them away again.”

“We’ll talk to forensics and Warner, maybe there is something to narrow it down.” Olivia said. “We’ll be in touch.”

“So what do you think?” Olivia asked on their way back to the precinct.

Nick sighed. “He’s right, we need more. No judge is going to give us a warrant on what we have now. And even if we find one, Cutter would rip the warrant into pieces. You believe the whole being barren thing?”

Olivia shrugged. “Do you? It kind of makes sense. If you can’t die there’s no reason to reproduce. What do you think of his friend?”

“She’s kind of freaking me out, to be honest.” Nick replied. “You think they’re an item?”

Nick laughed. “I hope so, I mean, She’s seriously hot. He’d be a fool not to at least try.”

After the cops had left, Mike and Jen finished their coffee and went straight to their training room. They didn’t live together, but since they worked so closely together, they spent most of their days and nights together. The reason Jen had been at Mike’s house so early in the day, was that they were preparing a get-together with the Watchers, to work out a way how they could make the whole _observe and record, but don’t interfere_ thing work under those new circumstances.

“It was only a matter of time before something like that happened.” Jen pointed out as they made their way through warm-up.

“The timing could be better, though,” Mike said. “Do you think we should have told them about the Watchers?” he asked her.

Since Jacob had left the States to live in Spain, Jen had kind of taken over the whole teaching thing. There were still things that were new to him.

Jen shook her head. “NO, it’s enough that the public hates us. They’ll have to come clean at one point, but that’s their decision, well, mostly. They’ll wait until the heat had gone down, so they won’t be roasted when it comes out.”

Mike nodded. “We need to put the word out, though. The cops will go after anyone they can find, they’ll have to.”

“I know, we’ll start making calls after I’ll wipe the floor with you.” Jen smiled and raised her sword, a gladius-style weapon she had designed and forged herself.

Mike gripped his own blade, a bastard sword Jacob had given him over a year ago before he had left. He was learning fast and he got better every day, but he still was no match for her. Now, Jacob, yes, he had beaten the black Immortal a few times, but not Jen. Not that it really mattered, it was training, the Game all but abolished. It he was lucky, he would never have to take a head.

“I hate to say it, but he’s right.” Alex Cabot said back at the precinct. “It’s not enough for a warrant. Besides, we don’t even know who’s immortal and who’s not. It’s like she told you that a Jew raped her.”

“Hey!” Munch protested.

“Or a Scientology guy.” Alex amended.

“I know Angela hasn’t been able to give us much, but go to her again, maybe she remembers something that can help up.” Cragen instructed Olivia and Nick. “And as much as I hate it, Munch, Rollins, do a background check on Angela O’Donnell. I don’t want any surprised from that front. Fin, check her friends, maybe we’re really going in the wrong direction.”

“But be discreet about it. I don’t want to hear about this in the news tomorrow.” Alex added.

Angela had been released from the hospital the day before and was staying at her parent’s house. She was not going to return to her apartment where she had been so viciously attacked. Her parents were clearing it out for her, so she wouldn’t have to.

“I don’t know what else to tell you, Detectives. I mean, you have a DNA sample, don’t you?” She asked. Her face was still discolored and her right arm was in a cast, but she was more in control of herself and no longer freaked out when a man was in the same room, much.

“But nothing to compare it to.” Olivia explained. “We run it through our databases and came up empty. And no judge will order a test on someone without more information.”

Angela looked from Olivia to Nick and back again.” What do you want me to say? I didn’t seem him?”

“We know, but maybe you can give us some other information.” Nick said. “For example, he talked to you, was his voice high or deep, raspy or clear. Or was he heavy, or light. Was he taller than you or smaller?”

Angela thought about it, clenching her tea cup in a death grip. “He was heavy, very heavy, kind of fat, really. He was about my size an inch or two taller maybe, I’m not sure. His voice, it was gravely, you know, like he smoked a lot and he smelled really, really bad. Like he hadn’t washed in a while.” Her words were rushed, like she feared that she would not get another chance to say them again.

Olivia wrote everything down. “Okay, you’ve helped us a lot, thank you, Angela.”

“You’ll get him, won’t you?” Angela asked. “I don’t even go out of the house alone anymore. I’m afraid and I hate being afraid.”

“We’ll do all we can, Angela.” Olivia promised. She knew from hard won experience never to promise that they would get the bad guy. Even if they got the perp, that was no guaranty that he would go to prison. More than one had gotten off thanks to a technicality.

“Well, at least that rules Cutter out.” Nick commented when they reported to the captain. “He’s a lot taller than her and definitely not fat.”

“Noticed that, did you. Some good news then.” Cragen said. “What about O’Donnell and her immediate family and friends?”

“Angela O’Donnell is the perfect girl next door. Steady job, not even a speeding ticket.” Much reported. “No siblings, parents retired.”

Fin continued. “Her friends check out too. A few girls from work and she meet once a week for a night out. Never any troubles there. But one of them, Sandra Bennett, says that she noticed a man watching the group for the last couple of outings. White, late twenties, five-six to five-seven, overweight. Sounds like a winner to me.”

“Get a sketch artist to that co-worker and find him. Olivia take the sketch to Cutter. Let’s see if he or his friends recognize him.”

Mike was covered in sweat and ready to just lay down, his sword in his hands felt ten times as heavy as it really was. Ever since the cops from SVU had been here Jen had intensified their training, anticipating trouble coming their way. How better sword-fighting would help with that, Mike didn’t know, but he enjoyed the training, the exhaustion that followed hours upon hours of sparring. Because of the good weather they were outside, going at each other in the back garden.

He noticed Benson and Amaro standing on the way leading to the garden, but he couldn’t spare them any more thoughts because Jen was pressing him hard and he had to use all he had to keep her at bay. Besides, you didn’t just interrupt a fight, training or real, it was rude and unprofessional.

After five more minutes, Mike made a mistake and his sword went flying. Jen’s sword stopped less than an inch from his throat. He had seen it coming, but he didn’t know what else he could have done. He would have to work on that.

Breathing hard, he turned to the detectives once Jen had lowered her blade. “Detectives,” he panted and picked his weapon up.

“Mr. Cutter, that was very impressive.” Amaro stated.

Mike laughed. “It would be more impressive if I had won, but I’m sure you’re not here to see me getting my ass handed to me. Show, how may I help you?”

Benson pulled a sheet of paper out. “We may have a suspect in our case and wanted to know if you recognize him.”

Mike took the sketch and after a look at it handed it to Jen with a resigned sigh. She cursed in a language Mike didn’t understand, but the meaning was clear nonetheless.

“You know him?” Amaro asked surprised.

“Henry Burke,” Mike told him. “Runs a website not very flattering to Immortals.”

“Not that any of the garbage he writes there is anywhere near the truth, but people will believe anything if you repeat it often enough.” Jen added and handed the sketch back. “I’m not surprised that he tries to blame this on us. He thinks we’re responsible for every and any wrong in the world.”

“Well, Cutter and his girlfriend were right about Burke not liking Immortals.” Olivia said.

“No kidding, he even blames them for 9/11.” Munch read from the screen. The entire team stood there, reading the anti-Immortal website run by Burke. “Angela recognized his picture as the guy watching her and her friends when they had gone out, but she can’t say if he’s her attacker or not. We’re going to need his DNA, and I mean, right now.”

“That might be a bit of a problem. He’s in the wind.” Nick said. “He hasn’t been to work since the attack on O’Donnell, his neighbors haven’t seen him the entire week.”

“There are a lot of subscribers to the site, maybe he’s hiding out with one of them.” Fin suggested.

“Then get started, and don’t forget his friends and family.” Cragen ordered. They finally had a credible suspect, now they only needed to find him.

It took them four days to find him. And it was not so much finding him was Angela O’Donnell calling Olivia, telling her in tears that Burke was outside her parent’s house and frightening her with his staring.

Cragen and Cabot gave them the go ahead. Now he was definitely stalking her and for now that was enough to arrest him for a few hours and get a warrant for his DNA. Olivia, Nick, Fin and Amanda headed over there as fast as they could.

When Burke saw them coming he ran, but not very far. He wasn’t the fastest runner on the face of the Earth.

“NYPD!” Fin called when he cut Burke off. “Just give it up.”

But Burke didn’t seem inclined to follow the well-meant advice, and pulled out a gun.

“Police! Don’t do it, Burke!” Amaro cried. “Drop the gun!” By now they all had their own weapons drawn and armed.

“You won’t get me, you freaks!” Burke shouted and squeezed of several shots until the gun clicked empty. Thankfully, he was a horrible shot and the bullets went wide, not hitting anyone aside from some cars and houses. Then he tried to run again but Nick tackled him to the ground and cuffed him quickly.

“Henry Burke, you’re under arrest for stalking, attack on police officers and rape.” He told the squirming man on the ground. “You have the right to remain silent…” he mirandized him and then dragged him up and dumped him in the back of a patrol car.

“At least now we shouldn’t have a problem getting a DNA sample.” Amanda commented. “Stupid of him to shoot at cops.”

“He called us freaks. I think he thought we were Immortals.” Fin said.

“We identified ourselves, twice.” Amanda pointed out. “How is he trying to talk himself out of that one?”

Fin shrugged. “I don’t know, but I’m sure it’s going to be interesting.”

Back at the precinct, they let Burke stew in one of the interrogation rooms for an hour. He hadn’t asked for a lawyer yet.

When Olivia and Nick entered, he tried to look defiant but he hadn’t much success with it, getting arrested definitely hadn’t been part of his plan, if he even had one.

“You, Mr. Burke, are in some serious trouble.” Olivia stated calmly.

“It’s all their fault!” Burke blurted out. “The Immortals made me to it. They drove me to it.”

“They drove you to do what?” Nick asked innocently. He sat down opposite Burke while Olivia stayed by the door.

“They made me hurt Angela. I did it to help her, you know. She said Immortals were okay. I had to show her that she was wrong about that. See, it wasn’t my fault. I did it for her.” Burke explained hastily.

“If that’s true we need a DNA sample from you.” Nick said. “To make sure we get everything right. So that we can clear everything up.”

Olivia scoffed. “That’s a lousy excuse. You’re a pervert and a rapist. It’s your fault.” She accused.

“That’s not true!” Burke yelled. “It’s them! It’s always them! They influence everything, even you! You do whatever Cutter tells you to do!”

“Cutter? What has he to do with this?” Nick wanted to know, faking confusion.

“He was the DA and he’s still running things. Don’t think I don’t know that.” Burke ranted. He was getting more confident with every word.

“That’s bull.” Olivia disagreed. “We make our own decisions. Cutter had no say here, nor does any other Immortals. And you’re going to go to prison for a long time for what you did to Angela.”

Burke turned to Nick, looking at him imploringly. “You believe me, don’t you? They have this powers over women. That’s why she,” He pointed at Olivia. “Is on their side. There can be no peace and justice as long as they exist.”

Captain Cragen turned to Dr. Huang, as they stood outside the room and watched through the one-way mirror. “What do you think?”

“Get your DNA sample before his lawyer gores for an insanity plea, you have his consent for now.” Huang replied. “And keep up this good cop, bad cop. He doesn’t like women, and blames Immortals for it.”

“That bad, huh?” Cragen shook his head.

“Oh, yes. Burke is also paranoid and has delusions of grandeur in which he is the savior from everything that is bad, in this case Immortals. Plead it out, if you can. In a trial he’ll try to make it all about them, and there are enough people out there who’ll gladly listen to him, for no other reason that they’re afraid of Immortals and what they represent, our mortality.” Huang explained.

“I’ll talk to Cabot.” Cragen promised. “Are you not afraid of them? I have to admit that I don’t know what I should make of them.”

Huang shrugged. “I try to keep an open mind, Captain. They’re just people, who can live for a long time. I would very much like to talk to some of the older ones. The things we could learn from them about the human mind and human nature, let alone history. It would be fascinating.”

“Maybe you’ll get your chance. The way I understand it, the woman Cutter hangs out with is pretty old, though she looks barely legal. And very hot, according to Amaro, not that that interests you.” Cragen said.

Huang smiled. “I can appreciate an attractive woman, I just don’t want to have sex with them.”

Burke’s lawyer did go for an insanity plea, but Burke refused and fired him, nor did he want to plead it out. He wanted his day in court, he wanted his stage and his audience.

His new lawyer was smart enough not to put him on the stand to sprout his hate speeches. There were limits even for juries. In the end, he was found guilty on all counts and wouldn’t see the light of day for at least twenty-five years. But he kept on telling his followers to not to trust Immortals and to end the threat they posed before it was too late.

“He’s whipping up violence.” McCoy said to Lieutenant Van Burren after the trial. “At one point this will end in blood.”

“I know, Mr. McCoy,” Van Burren agreed. “But until someone actually does something my hands are tied. I’ll have my people keep an eye on them and on Cutter and his friend, but that’s all I can do.”

Jack nodded. “Thank you, Lt. I told Mike to be careful until hit blows over, but…”

“You miss him, don’t you?” Van Burren asked.

Jack smiled sadly and shrugged. “He was a good EADA, and just because he is immortal doesn’t turn him into some kind of monster. Besides, it’s been only four years. That doesn’t really count as far as I’m concerned.”

“What do you mean?” she wanted to know.

“Jen, his friend, says that you don’t really understand what immortality means until you’ve outlived your own generation.” Jack explained.

“Not exactly a cheery thought.” Anita stated.

“No, not really,” Jack agreed.

Mike was halfway through his weekly run when he noticed Detective Lupo sitting in an unmarked car at the edge of Central Park. The tall detective got out the car when he noticed Mike coming over.

“What did you do to get stuck babysitting me, Detective?” Mike asked when he reached him.

“There are some credible threats against you and your girlfriend. We’d like to put you both somewhere safe for a few days until we take care of them.” Lupo explained.

“Jen’s meeting with some friends and what kind of threats are we talking about exactly?” Mike wanted to know. It had been two weeks since Burke’s trial had ended and he had received some threats but noting that he considered serious, most were only letting off steam. He saved himself the effort of telling Lupo that he didn’t sleep with Jen, no one ever believed him anyway.

“Two dozen men and women teaming up to do away with you and they know where you live.” Lupo replied.

“They seem to know more than that,” Mike muttered when he noticed a group of people marching in their direction and they didn’t look like they wanted to invite anyway to a cup of tea.

“Shit,” Lupo cursed. “Are you armed?” he asked and reached for his service gun.

“Only a couple of knives. I wasn’t expecting a firefight.” Mike replied and then the Buzz hit him. “Damn it! They already have an Immortal with them.”

“How do you know?” Lupo wanted to know.

“I just do, and no, I don’t know whom.” Mike replied, looking around for a way out but they were already surrounded. “You should leave, Detective. They’re not interested in you.”

“Not a chance, Cutter.” Lupo said. “NYPD, put the weapons down, guys!” he ordered the approaching mob.

“Please tell me there is reinforcement coming, otherwise I’m soon a head shorter.” Mike told him when he mob didn’t slow down.

Lupo looked apprehensive. “Yeah, in about twenty minutes.”

“Great,” Mike muttered and then the first of the mob had reached them.

The leader stepped forward and aimed his gun a Lupo. “Get lost or join us. We’re about to show the world how you deal properly with this immortal freaks.”

Only now did Mike and Lupo notice that several of the man and women had cameras out and were filming everything.

“Can’t do that. You’re about to commit murder, and I can’t allow hat. If you’re smart you let us and the Immortal you captured leave and we all go home,” Lupo tried to reason with them, but Mike knew that it was fruitless.

They were too far gone too far to listen to reason. This would end in tragedy, one way or another. The leader just shook his head and suddenly brought his gun down on Lupo’s forehead. At the same moment, several others rushed forward to grab Mike. Without even thinking about it, Mike took out two of them and the others backed off uncertain, not having expected him to fight back like that.

“Give it up, Cutter, or he dies.” The leader called and aimed his gun at Lupo, who was kneeling on the ground, bleeding from a head wound.

With a sigh, Mike raised his hands showing that he was surrendering. This was it then, all of four years of being immortal. Maybe it wasn’t so bad. Jen hand the others had told him how hard it was sometimes to go on century after century, always trying to find a new reason to not give up. At least he wouldn’t have to watch his friends die.

Rough hands grabbed him and forced him to his knees while Lupo leaned against the car, he probably had a concussion. Mike really hoped they would let him go once this was over, but he wasn’t holding his breath. Thought they weren’t trying to hide what they were doing.

“Bring the other one.” The leader commanded and under cheers and jeers and taunts they dragged the other Immortal forward.

“He’s just a kid!” Lupo protested shocked. And indeed he was, a boy of about ten, maybe twelve years old. Kenneth, it had to be him. Jacob had told him about the child-Immortal who had managed to survive for over eight hundred years by whatever means necessary, but it seemed he had run out of ticks and luck.

“He’s a spy. You sent him to us so he could learn everything about us, but I figured him out and now he’ll pay.” The leader grabbed a short sword, probably Kenneth’s and stepped next to the squirming immoral child.

“Don’t do this!” Mike called. “Please, just let us go. You don’t know what you’re doing.” If one or both of them lost their heads they wouldn’t be the only ones to die. Ian had shown him a recording of a Quickening and it hadn’t been pretty.

“Oh, but I do.” The man replied with a fanatical glint in his eyes and brought the blade down. It went through Kenneth’s neck as if it were nothing. The head fell to the ground, followed by the body the men holding it let it go. Despite knowing the _technical aspects_ of it, Mike was surprised by how little blood there was. And for a moment nothing and no one moved as if the world was holding its breath. Then a white mist rose from the headless body. Mike tried to prepare himself for what he knew was coming when the mist descended onto him. It barely registered on his mind that the men holding him had let go and stepped back when they saw what was happening. But Mike knew that that wasn’t enough and that it was too late. The first lightning strikes started to arch from Kenneth’s remains, reaching out to Mike. And then all hell broke loose. All Mike could do was to hold on to his self and try not to be drowned by what had been once one of the most ruthless Immortals that had ever lived.

Crouched against the car, Lupo watched as the lightning his several of the men and women, throwing them to the ground, but most hit Cutter who was kneeling on the ground, trying to curb in on himself. Most of the other had run away and Lupo couldn’t blame them. This was nothing he had imagined could ever happen. Then he had to run himself because the lightning started to hit the car too. It was like the end of the world. After what seemed like an eternity to him it ended. Slowly Lupo stood up and walked back to where Cutter was still crouched on the ground, panting and shivering as if he were freezing.

“Cutter, Mike, are you alright?” he asked and felt foolish for asking obviously he was not.

Suddenly a car screeched to a halt, Lupo’s hand went to his gun, but it was only Bernard who jumped out of the car. Closely followed by several patrol cars. “We saw it on the news, Lupo. You alright?” Bernard asked his partner.

“Yeah, just a headache.” Lupo replied shaken. “How the hell do we fix this?”

“I don’t know, I just don’t know, man. It looks like a war zone.” Bernard sighed.

They had put him into Van Burren’s office and gave him a cup of coffee, though he would have preferred something a lot stronger, no matter whether it still worked on him or not.

He should be grateful, Mike guessed, that they hadn’t locked him up. He was still reeling from the Quickening, it was so much worse than he had expected after what the others had told him. How anyone could possible get addicted to that was beyond him. Mike felt completely exhausted and at the same time charged up, but he was still himself. Something he had doubted when the Quickening had descended onto him.

He knew the cops had questions, but they had refrained from asking them until they had cleaned up the scene. Mike wasn’t sure he had any answers for them.

Suddenly the door opened and Jack stepped in. “Mike, how are you doing?”

“I still have my head, Jack, but other than that, I’m not sure, right now.” Mike replied. “Did anyone else die, aside from Kenneth?”

“You knew the kid?” Jack asked surprised.

Mike shook his head. “I know of him, he has had a certain reputation among our kind. How many, Jack?”

“Seven, two dozen injured. Back to the kid. Was he really immortal?” Jack wanted to know.

“Yes, over eight hundred years old.” Mike told him. “He…” he trailed off when he felt the presence of another Immortal and a second later Jen and Jason entered the bullpen. “You should probably asked them. They’re probably better suited to answer all your questions.”

The two Immortals came directly to the office, ignoring the cops staring at them. “Mr. McCoy, so lovely to meet you.” Jen said when she entered. “We’re leaving now, unless you want to charge Michael with anything.”

Jack’s eyebrows rose up to his hairline. “No, he can leave, but the police still has some questions, but they can wait for a few hours. And there is the questions what to do with the body, Kenneth, that was his name, right?” Jack looked between the three Immortals.

“I already called Amanda, she’s on her way over.” Jason spoke up. “She was his teacher, she should decide that. Until then you will not touch the body unless I’m there.” He paused for a moment and after he cast a quick look at Jen continued. “And I’ll answer your questions, within reason.”

“Thank you,” Jack replied. “I’ll tell Lt. Van Burren. And you should probably try to get some sleep.”

Mike scoffed. “Somehow I don’t see that in my near future.”

Jen handed him a jacket and gave him an understanding smile. “I’ll take care of him, don’t worry, Mr. McCoy.”

Mike stood slowly up, his muscles hurt like he had run a couple of marathons back to back, but he knew that he would not sleep, at least not tonight. “How is Detective Lupo?” He asked. He knew the cop had survived the mess the Quickening had caused, but he also remembered that he had been hurt beforehand.

“A mild concussion and a few stitches. They’ll be keeping him in the hospital overnight, just to be on the safe side.” Jack told him. “Oh, and Emil wants to talk to you, and every other shrink I know are lining up behind him.”

“We have our own shrinks, thank you, Mr. McCoy.” Jen replied.

“Oh, yes, some of them have been doing this for centuries. I think, they’re up to the task.”

Jack smiled. “I better keep that little fact to myself, or they want to talk to them too.”

“Sorry to interrupt.” Van Burren said when she entered her office. “But I have a couple of questions before you can go, Mr. Cutter.”

Mike nodded, he just wanted his to be over.” Ask away.”

“Did you know any of the men and women that attacked you?” she wanted to know.

“No,” Mike shook his head. “And they didn’t introduce themselves.”

“Alright, we have pretty much all on video, thanks to themselves, but you’ve got to tell me what the hall was that lightning. And why there was no blood anywhere from the kid, I mean, they cut off his head.”

“That lightning is called a Quickening, part of it anyway, it cauterizes the wound almost immediately, therefore no blood.” Jason spoke up.

“You’re kidding,” Van Burren stated. “That lightning is your live-energy?”

Jason shook his head. “No, it’s part of the Quickening, but the majority is the white mist. The lightning is just excess energy, if you like, a fraction of the whole thing.”

“A fraction, right.” Van Burren sighed. “Alright, that’s it for now. You can go now, we’ll see you tomorrow for your formal statement.§

“Thanks, Lieutenant.” Mike meant it, this whole thing could have ended very differently for him.

Jason stayed behind at the precinct to deal with the paperwork. He had been a New York cop for nearly fifteen years. He knew the drill, and having been one of them was helping, at least a bit.

Jen drove Mike home. “I know you’re probably not hungry, Michael, but you should eat something when we get home.” She told him.

Mike sighed. “Is it always like this?” he asked. “I’m exhausted, and too edgy at the same time. And my mind, it’s like there are all this memories floating around in my head. Does it go away?”

“It’s normal, yes. The Quickening needs to settle, that can take a few hours up to a couple of days. Then you’ll sleep, probably not too well at first, but it will get better.”

Mike sighed again and ran his hands over his face. “Jacob said that some are addicted to Quickenings. I don’t understand how that works. I hate it. I don’t want to ever experience it again.”

Jen nodded but didn’t say anything. Mike meant what he had just said, he didn’t like those Quickenings. Yes, there was a certain feeling of power underneath the pain but that was not enough for him to start liking it.

Once they were at Jen’s house, Mike forced himself to eat a sandwich before taking a long, scalding hot shower. Afterwards, he sat down to write in his journal. He had found that it helped him to order his thoughts. He wrote for hours and when the sun rose he finally headed to bed and after a while he did fall asleep.

As Jen had predicted, he didn’t sleep well, nightmares plagued him and after a couple of hours he gave up. He had to head back to the precinct soon anyway. He followed the smell of fresh food into the kitchen where Jen was working.

“How are you feeling?” she asked when he entered.

“Jury’s still out. What did I miss?” Mike sighed.

“Well, Jason will be around soon and accompany back to the precinct. They finished the autopsy and Amanda should arrive later today.” Jen waited a beat before continuing. “And one of the videos of Kenneth’s execution is on the news, and all over the internet.”

Mike fell in a chair. He had forgotten about the videos. He had assumed that the police had gotten them all. Foolish, of course, but then he hadn’t been at his best. “What are the reactions?”

“Surprisingly good for us. People are shocked that a child had been murdered, no matter that Kenneth was eight hundred sixty years old. And considering the damage done by the Quickening, no one wants a repeat of that.” Jen explained.

“Lucky us.” Mike muttered.

The events of Central Park, the Execution, as it became known, did shift the public opinion in favor of the Immortals, at least for now. That was the good news. The bad news was that the press started hounding Mike again, like never before. They put his live and his past under a microscope, again, but there wasn’t much to find, again. And therefore they went with the presses true and tried Plan B, inventing a hot steamy affair with Jen.

Mike was annoyed by it, Jen highly amused.

“They’ll write whatever they want, Michael, just ignore them. They’ll find something new soon enough.” She told him. “Or we could prove them right this once. You know where to find me.” Jen smiled seductively at him.

Mike shook his head. He liked Jen, a lot, and he did find her attractive, he wasn’t dead, after all, but with all that had happened he didn’t know if he could deal with a relationship on top of everything else.

“Maybe later,” Mike replied.

“Maybe,” Jen agreed smiling. They had time after all.

Twenty years later

Mike sat in his living room, staring in his drink. He had just come home from Jack’s funeral. Ninety years, not a bad age for a mortal. In the end it was his hear that had given out in his sleep. And slowly Mike was starting to feel his fifty-eight years, even if he didn’t look it.

He felt the presence of another of his kind, but he didn’t move, he knew it was Jen. In the last twenty years, he had to fight twice for his life, but he hadn’t had to take any heads. His opponents had learned quickly that ust because he was a young Immortal he wasn’t easy prey. He didn’t know what became of them, but they hadn’t bothered him again.

Maybe it was because he was now a member of the governing council the Immortals had set up. And it was even working.

“I miss him.” Mike whispered.

“I know,” Jen said quietly and knelt before him. “But as long as you miss him, you won’t forget him, and that’s the important thing.”

“Always so wise,” Mike mused, running a finger down her cheek.

Jen smiled. “I had a long time to become so wise.” She leaned forward. “And I just noticed that it’s later now.” She whispered.

“Indeed it is.” Mike agreed and closed the distance.

End


End file.
